Just Keep Pedalling

Vordinborg – 1,420km completed

I’d spotted a few other NC4K riders checking into the hotel the night before, including the English chap from the ferry who had been contemplating an early finish to the ride. So it wasn’t surprising that a few were also at breakfast, although none of those I’d spoken to the night before. In fact two of them were the guys I’d with sat at the restaurant in Lindow the day before on my way to Schloss Klink. They also had stories of puncture afflicted riders – I forget now if they’d been hit themselves, but our tally was more than 12 riders (including myself) by the time I’d eaten and downed a couple of cups of coffee and juice. Unlike me, they had no need of the bike shop so we parted company at the restaurant – my direction was the now unlocked bike cupboard and then off to far end of the main street of town. I was half an hour early, hoping they’d perhaps open before their official time knowing so many riders would be coming through needing supplies.

Schloss Klink – 1,241km completed

The last day of my first week on NC4K – and with luck, I’d be leaving Germany and starting the journey into Scandinavia. Although the part in Denmark would be less than 2 days. Never having visited before, I was looking forward to it. Which was a good thing, to counter the earlier alarm that had jolted me back from the depths of a dream (which seem to get more lurid as the days roll on). I was still bleary eyed trudging back to reception with rucksack slung on my back, saddle bag under my arm, and helmet stuffed with loose gear in the other hand. To be fair, the night manager did not look that much more awake. He had been fully briefed on my breakfast though. Which, with yet more telepathic magic, was exactly what I needed without me mentioning a word. Meats, cheeses, rolls and pastries, and no eggs. The tray was topped off by a couple of bananas, some other fruit too I think, and large jugs of fruit juice and coffee. I demolished the lot (apart from one of the bananas which went into my pocket for later). Although as I sat on the velvety two seater couch I did worry that maybe I should have asked for a towel to separate my stinky ass from the fine vintage furnishings. It was too late now though, so I drained the coffee by way of showing my appreciation instead. The final act at my castle stopover was getting the chap to unlock the bike shed (clean and new, did I already mention that?) and load up in the grey light of the overcast morning.

Luckenwalde – 1,015km completed

My morning routine was becoming automatic – the coffee jug was washed, and I was outside rigging the bike and wheeling out through the gate with zero drama. The room keys were wherever they’d asked me to leave them (posted through the letterbox or in the door come to mind now). The onward route was a dead straight line up from the first significant street I crossed – but close as this was, strict rule observance required me to take the extra kilometer or two to rejoin the point where I had left it. No one would have spotted or cared about the shortcut except me. But that was enough. Although I was surprised to find how well I managed to reverse the succession of turns from the evening before using just memory and the map on the Garmin. The extra distance took no time at all and I was soon on the official route again without even the smallest segment having been skipped. And better still, the odometer reading on the Garmin showed I had ticked off the first block of 1,000km. Just three more to go!

Kirchberg – 795km completed

As the coffee bubbled through the filter I glanced through the kitchen window. It confirmed the forecast on my phone – the rain had cleared overnight, but outside lay a grey, damp morning that suggested more rain was likely. Most of the washing from last night was reasonably dry but the socks and chamois of the shorts were still damp. I stuck them in a bag to dry more the next evening, and donned fresh kit despite the likelihood of further soaking. The outlook for later in the day and beyond was mostly dry and warm, so the chance of getting my laundry properly dry seemed good. For now, my lovely fresh smelling socks even got their own highlight photo. Whilst pottering with this I downed the hot & wonderfully strong black coffee. For proper starter fuel, I ate a bar and the banana which had ridden in my pocket most of the day before. I forget now if it was from the first deli stop, or the breakfast bar at the previous hotel. I have a vague memory it was the deli stop. The garage was unlocked as promised, and I did my best to rig up and roll out with the minimum of noise.

Schnaittenbach – 609km completed

Whichever way I studied it the outlook on Epic Ride Weather didn’t change: building heat, rain showers with heavy rain later, and a hill profile that resembled a shark’s jawline. At least there wasn’t much wind, and what little there was would probably be lost in the dips and hollows. It could have been worse – the coffee was good and the breakfast buffet plentiful. And, as hoped, the tables had been set earlier than the official opening time. So by the time I’d finished my bike checks (tyres, chain lube etc) the feast was laid out waiting. Around half of the bikes had dispersed already by the time I made it out to the back courtyard and kitted up. As I rolled back through the main street and out of town the early morning was bright and cool and the roads were empty. It was a lovely time to be on a bike, at least for now. 

Garching – 404km completed

My second attempt at a morning routine was marginally more efficient: shower, tea, muesli bars, stuff everything into the saddle pack until it resembled a tightly packed sausage, and lash it all onto the bike. Although for some reason, I couldn’t seem to eliminate a slight mid-bag sag. It didn’t waggle around, and wasn’t in danger of rubbing down onto the mudguard, but something in the centre of the packing wasn’t holding tight once mounted. I guess on such a Frankenstein rig aesthetics shouldn’t matter but it bugged me more than it should. Finally, before leaving the room I took a photo of where the bike stood in case the hotel guy was worried. He wasn’t – clearly tired from a night shift, the only thing on his mind was getting done and getting home. He had less than hour before he was out of there, but despite being obviously tired and running low on patience he still fired up one of the push button self-serve espresso machines and guided me through the controls, resulting in a decently strong, delicious cup of steaming coffee. The first of my morning wishes was granted, and the night manager’s rave review was in the bag.

Innsbruck – 218km completed

First morning on the road which inevitably meant my routine wasn’t honed yet – plus the apartment had tea and coffee, ensuring a degree of faffing took place as I showered and loaded the bags up. But eventually I staggered back down the tricky curve of stairs, dropped the card key in the box, avoided the lethal step back up to the door and rolled out onto a bright but chilly street. Aside from the occasional dog walker the roads back to where I’d left the main route were almost deserted. Technically, I could have taken a more direct route to the only café my desk checking of the map had suggested would be open so early on a Sunday. But under strict event rules, if you leave the route for any reason other than traffic or diversions, you rejoin it at the point you left. On the way, I passed two more of the five riders from India who I’d briefly met on the cycle path yesterday before they sped off ahead of me. We exchanged hellos before heading off on completely different streets. I guess they were making for somewhere different, or maybe just cracking on with their ride.

Rovereto – 0km completed

The moment was here – 8 months after sitting in a hotel lobby in London impatiently hitting refresh hoping that when the entry button showed I’d be lucky enough to get a place, it was time to load up my gear for real. Nervous doesn’t come close to how I felt tightening down the straps on my bags. Every action and decision from this point, good or bad, would have a direct impact on how far I could get on this ride. The benefit of having two TCR attempts behind me was that I had a really good understanding of what was ahead, and the mindset and choices that would help me reach the end. The downside, of course, was that this was my third try at finishing a monster 4,000km ride. On paper, this should be more in my wheelhouse than those before. But in less than 2 hours time the phrase “on paper” would lose all meaning. Needless to say, breakfast conversation, whilst sociable, was a lot more limited – with frequent trips by each of us back to our rigs to add or adjust something. And it was now a lot more than just Benjamin, Christopher and myself. Eight or more other riders were finishing their last fettling, and loading up on as much food as they could get down. As we began to filter out from the B&B, the atmosphere just in our small group was already tremendous. But despite the enthusiastic smiles and jokes, nothing could fully mask an edginess to the collective energy.

18-Jul-24, Colle Ameno B&B, Rovereto Italy

The taxi driver stopped right outside the door of the B&B and helped me unship the heavy box from the back of his van. The journey to this point had been unremarkable – so much so, I wondered if I’d allowed myself too much time to get here. I had all afternoon and all of tomorrow to get my bike assembled, checked out, and anything broken or missing replaced. I was early, but the staff were there to check me in quickly and show me through to the lovely enclosed courtyard and garden at the rear. My box was far too heavy to lug up to the room, which was up two flights of stairs – one to the upper balcony, and another to the upper rooms. With nothing really to unpack, I dropped everything and headed for a quick lunch at a café in the square just meters from the huge wooden side entrance of the B&B. Fed and watered I wandered back to assemble my rig.